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Colt: Demons of Destruction
Colt: Demons of Destruction Read online
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One - Maci
Chapter Two - Colt
Chapter Three - Maci
Chapter Four - Colt
Chapter Five - Maci
Chapter Six - Colt
Chapter Seven - Maci
Chapter Eight - Colt
Chapter Nine - Maci
Chapter Ten - Colt
Chapter Eleven - Maci
Chapter Twelve - Colt
Chapter Thirteen - Maci
Chapter Fourteen - Colt
Chapter Fifteen - Maci
Chapter Sixteen - Colt
Chapter Seventeen - Maci
Chapter Eighteen - Colt
Chapter Nineteen - Maci
Chapter Twenty - Colt
Chapter Twenty-One - Maci
Chapter Twenty-Two - Colt
Chapter Twenty-Three - Maci
Chapter Twenty-Four - Colt
Chapter Twenty-five - Maci
Chapter Twenty-Six - Colt
Chapter Twenty-Seven - Maci
Chapter Twenty-Eight - Colt
Chapter Twenty-Nine - Maci
Chapter Thirty - Colt
Chapter Thirty-One - Maci
Chapter Thirty-Two - Colt
Chapter Thirty-Three - Maci
Chapter Thirty-Four - Colt
Chapter Thirty-Five - Maci
Chapter Thirty-Six - Colt
Chapter Thirty-Seven - Maci
Chapter Thirty-Eight - Colt
Chapter Thirty-Nine - Maci
Chapter Forty - Colt
Chapter Forty-One - Maci
Chapter Forty-Two - Colt
Chapter Forty-Three - Maci
Epilogue
Tucker
From the Author
Acknowledgements
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One - Maci
Chapter Two - Colt
Chapter Three - Maci
Chapter Four - Colt
Chapter Five - Maci
Chapter Six - Colt
Chapter Seven - Maci
Chapter Eight - Colt
Chapter Nine - Maci
Chapter Ten - Colt
Chapter Eleven - Maci
Chapter Twelve - Colt
Chapter Thirteen - Maci
Chapter Fourteen - Colt
Chapter Fifteen - Maci
Chapter Sixteen - Colt
Chapter Seventeen - Maci
Chapter Eighteen - Colt
Chapter Nineteen - Maci
Chapter Twenty - Colt
Chapter Twenty-One - Maci
Chapter Twenty-Two - Colt
Chapter Twenty-Three - Maci
Chapter Twenty-Four - Colt
Chapter Twenty-five - Maci
Chapter Twenty-Six - Colt
Chapter Twenty-Seven - Maci
Chapter Twenty-Eight - Colt
Chapter Twenty-Nine - Maci
Chapter Thirty - Colt
Chapter Thirty-One - Maci
Chapter Thirty-Two - Colt
Chapter Thirty-Three - Maci
Chapter Thirty-Four - Colt
Chapter Thirty-Five - Maci
Chapter Thirty-Six - Colt
Chapter Thirty-Seven - Maci
Chapter Thirty-Eight - Colt
Chapter Thirty-Nine - Maci
Chapter Forty - Colt
Chapter Forty-One - Maci
Chapter Forty-Two - Colt
Chapter Forty-Three - Maci
Epilogue
Tucker
From the Author
Acknowledgements
Colt
Demons of Destruction MC
© 2016 by Jacqueline M. Sinclair
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any similarity to true events is purely coincidental.
Cover design:
Bound2Be Books
Editor:
Courtney Tradewell-Clark
Formatting:
Shanoff Formats
To my favorite ol’ lady. Love you, Sis.
Maci squeezed her eyes shut. She wasn’t sure if it was the stench, or the horrible pain in the back of her head causing it, but the bathroom wouldn’t stop spinning. She reached out to stabilize herself. It was no use. Her hands slipped down the rough cinderblock walls, smacking into puddles of blood on the floor. No, no, no.
A low whine of frustration echoed around her. She was trapped. Her head and neck were wrenched against the waist high wall that separated the toilet from the old porcelain sink. The dead man’s weight had her pinned. God, I didn’t mean for this to happen.
Forcing her eyes open against the blinding light, Maci blinked away the burning tears, and tried to swallow down the panic. How long had she been knocked out? Had the sun come up since she’d stopped at the little country store? What if they were still there? How many had there been? She had to do something. She’d just have to risk it.
Inhaling the nauseating scent of the one-stall bathroom, Maci screamed, “Help,” as loud as she could.
The single word left her breathless, panting to refill her lungs. No one can hear me. Maci’s body felt like it was collapsing into itself. What if it wasn’t over? Images of the attack flashed in her mind, and the darkness threatened to creep over her, again. No. Focus, Maci. How many of them had been at the diner? Four? Five? How many had followed her? I have to get out of here.
Instinct kicked in, sending adrenaline coursing through her. Using the dead man as leverage, she took a breath born out of straight fear, and shoved the man’s shoulders with all the strength she could summon. She managed to wrangle her hips and thighs free, but it’d taken every ounce of energy she had.
With her chest heaving, and her arms feeling like rubber, Maci scrambled to the corner and risked a look around the bathroom. Blood was everywhere: running down the walls in thick streaks, puddled on the floor. Jesus, it was splattered on the ceiling.
Squeezing her eyes shut, Maci tried taking a deep breath, but the stench only made the nausea worse. She heaved, but forced herself to hold her breath until the feeling passed. I have to get out of here.
The space was tiny and the man’s body dominated the floor. There was no way out but over him. The thought was enough to curl her into the corner, under the sink. She wrapped her arms around her legs, and pushed herself as close to the wall as she could, refusing to look at him. I did this.
A sob exploded from her. She rocked, panic taking over. Her terrifying thoughts repeated themselves over and over in her mind, so vividly she didn’t recognize the new sound at first. It came again. She froze. A fresh wave of panic throbbed in her chest. Maybe she wasn’t alone.
Terrified to move, too scared to even breathe, Maci listened, fighting the urge to scream for help. What if it was him?
The muffled sound came again, and somewhere in her mind, Maci connected it. A phone. A cell phone was vibrating in the pile of clothes, blood, and tissue.
Hope surged through her. She could get it. Call for help. The thought was enough to motivate her to move. She lunged from the corner, prepared to search for the ringing salvation. That’s when her mind put the pieces together. He’s one of them.
Rage and fear had her hovering over him, her palms just inches away from his body. She registered the damage, and the details, of the mutilated man, and then her scrutiny was drawn to a spot over his chest.
&nb
sp; The man was drenched in his own blood, but that spot was eerily clean. She focused her attention there, pushing the other details to the back corner of her mind, before they shut her down, again.
What if someone is looking for him? They could be on their way there right that minute. Go. With nothing but terror driving her, Maci managed to crawl over him, on her hands and knees, slipping and falling into the congealing blood. It seeped into her clothes and smeared her body. Don’t think about that right now.
Escape. It was all that mattered. The phone. It was still ringing. She needed to be long gone when they found him.
Maci pushed through the door on all fours, gasping and crying, trying to stand, but the tattered ends of her uniform caught beneath her foot and pulled her back to the ground. She never stopped moving. She dragged herself across the rocks, not even feeling the sharp edges that dug into her flesh. She was numb to the pain.
A few feet from her car, she managed to stand and stumble into the driver’s door. She pushed herself off and reached for the handle, but her blood covered hand slipped as she lifted it. Panic flooded her. How much time did she have? She gripped it with both hands, but the door wouldn’t open.
Desperate, she banged her fists on the window. Keys. She needed keys. She fumbled in the torn, blood-soaked uniform. The shredded rags were so unrecognizable she couldn’t find the pocket. Gripping the material in her fingers, she shook the fabric, and felt the weight of the keys bounce against her legs.
Digging through the folds with trembling hands, she finally found them. She managed to unlock the door and swung it wide open and fell into the driver’s seat. With no time to catch her breath, she slammed the door shut and punched the lock down.
It was less than two miles to her little trailer and she barely remembered the drive. The next coherent thought she had was standing in the shower, still dressed in what was left of her clothes, letting the scalding water wash over her.
She peeled them off and dropped them to the shower floor. When did I turn the water back on? She didn’t remember doing it. Her pipe was busted. That’s why she’d stopped at the store in the first place. She didn’t have water. Her tiny trailer would be flooded, again.
It doesn’t matter. Maci grabbed the soap off the hanging rack and scrubbed every inch of skin, over and over. She couldn’t stop crying. She felt dirty, hopeless, and there was a steady burn of panic just under her skin.
The water did nothing to make her feel any better. She was exhausted and the water had run cold. She pushed the lever down and turned it off, but stood there shivering with water dripping from her body. She didn’t want to get out. She didn’t want to remember. She didn’t want to face it.
Finally, she stepped out and wrapped herself in her fluffy, pink robe, not bothering to dry off. She was numb, distant from her own thoughts. Slowly she became aware of the water she was standing in. She slipped on her flip-flops then padded through the sloshy carpet to turn the water back off. Then she curled up in her bed and hid beneath the covers.
She needed to go to the cops. She needed to tell them she was there and explain what happened. The thought brought a fresh wave of uncontrollable tears. The police couldn’t keep her safe forever. There’d be more of those bikers. They’d come after her. Had they all been at the store? She hadn’t seen but two there, but there’d been five or six of them at the diner. Why did they kill him? She’d survived tonight, but next time, would she be so lucky?
Her mind was reeling with no solution in site. All she could think of was that man. He was one of them, but she’d just left him there. Had anyone found him? She considered a hundred reasons why they would have killed him, and left her alive, but none of them made sense, or made her feel any better.
Exhaustion consumed her just as the sun was coming up. She managed a fitful sleep till almost noon, her dreams plagued by images of the murdered man in the bathroom floor. She couldn’t handle this. Maci pulled the covers up and gave in to the same hopelessness that’d paralyzed her the night before.
Colt’s grip tightened on the phone. “What are you saying?”
His mom was not the emotional kind, but damn if he’d understood a word she’d said. “Take a breath. Breathe and slow it down.”
Giving her a minute to do just that, Colt paced the length of the couch, trying not to let his thoughts get ahead of the conversation. With each passing second he felt the tension grow in his muscles. The ache in his jaw reminded him to unclench his teeth. He willed himself to relax.
His mother’s slow, shaky voice broke through her raspy breathing. “You make them pay. Every last one.”
“Who?” A knock echoed through the apartment and Colt eyed his best friend, and teammate, Mikey, who’d was watching him from the edge of his seat. He knew something was wrong, too, but he shoved himself out of his chair and headed toward the door.
“Mom, what are you talking about?”
Mikey swung the door open and Colt turned to see his father’s VP, and his best friend, filling the door way. It all made sense. His body went rigid, but the phone began shaking in his hand, his body reacting to what his mind couldn’t process. “What?”
“They killed him, Colt,” she cried, just before grief consumed her again.
Colt eyed the men who’d just arrived. He knew. Deep down, the realization that his father was dead hit him. “Who are they?”
His question was met with an incoherent mess of emotions that flushed adrenaline through his body.
“Who?” he demanded, again. This time his question was aimed at his father’s brothers. Storm, the Demons of Destruction’s VP, gave a tight shake of his head, indicating he didn’t know. Tex just grew bigger, angrier.
“I’m coming home,” Colt growled into the phone before hanging it up. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
Tex shifted his weight, clenching and releasing his fists. “They found him yesterday morning at a store,” he ground out. “Fucked him up, Colt,” he said, his gray eyes flashing barely contained rage. “I didn’t even recognize him.”
Colt’s blood ran cold. Tex had been his father’s best friend as far back as he could remember. What the hell had they done to him that his best friend didn’t know who he was?
Tex looked away. “If it weren’t for your mom’s name tattooed on his shoulder…” He shook his head, his voice trailing off. “She needs you.”
Stunned, Colt started to sit, then straightened, and spun back towards them. His mind was racing. He needed to regroup, but at the same time, the urge to do something was crushing his ability to think. “Make them pay.” It was the only thing on his mind.
“I’ll be ready in ten minutes. Tell Hank I want to see him.”
He started down the hallway to his room, followed by Mikey, who had the good sense to wait until they were alone to speak his peace. “You want me to go with you?”
Colt shook his head, knowing his entire life was about to change. Colt knew from Mikey’s demeanor that he sensed it, too.
“I see where your mind is at, bro. You sure you want to do this?”
Colt had been digging clothes out of a drawer. He slammed it shut and cut his eyes to Mikey. The offensive guard stood between him and the bedroom door, feet apart, arms crossed. He was big as fuck, towering over Colt by more than a foot, and was just as big around, but Colt wasn’t afraid of him. “I’ll go through you,” he warned.
The giant threw his hands up. “I ain’t stopping you, man. I just don’t want you to go do something you can’t fix.”
Stuffing his clothes in a bag, Colt zipped it up, and ran his hands over his short, black hair. “You heard what they did, Mikey.”
His best friend stepped closer and stabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “Dude, they aren’t going to let this lie. Come on, they’ll handle it. You don’t even know who they are. What about the cops?”
Colt grunted. “You think they give a shit about one less Demon riding around? Hell, they probably buried the file as soon as they st
amped DOA across it.”
Mikey would never understand. His father didn’t die. He was taken. Murdered. There was no way he could walk back on the field knowing his dad wasn’t watching, that there’d be no post-game phone call. All of that had been replaced by a deeply-rooted desire to find the people responsible and make them pay.
“You don’t even know if they’re going to take you. Who wants some skinny-ass boy watching their six? Go home. Bury your old man, but come back here, with your team.”
Mikey moved to sit on the corner of Colt’s king size bed and changed tactics. “Draft is coming up. It’ll be gone long before your anger is,” he reminded him. “How are you going to come back from that?” His best friend turned his palms to the ceiling. “That’s a lifetime of regret.”
“Nothing is official,” Colt argued. “The draft will be there next year and I can still play.”
“Not from prison,” Mikey hissed.
Colt loved football and he knew this would have been his year. He had an unsigned agent in his ear, reminding him every day, but it meant nothing without his dad. He belonged with his family, and even though he didn’t wear the Demons’ colors, they were his family. “I won’t be coming back.”
It had taken her two days to become coherent enough to get out of bed, and only then because the landlord had sent someone over to fix her water pipe.
The man tried to be friendly, but Maci could barely stand his company. She clenched her bathrobe to her chest, near panicked at just his presence. Finally, he gave up the small talk and went on with his work. Luckily, it didn’t take long, but she stayed close to the door, quiet and ready to run, just in case.
“All done.” The man tossed his tools into his box and stood, scrutinizing her. “You OK?”
The pressure forced her to look away. She nodded. “Anything you need from me?” Her voice was weak and reeked of fear, but she was determined to get him out of there.
“Nope,” he said, moving toward the door. “I’ll bill Gene for the work. We have a system.”
The man smiled, and even though Maci knew it was a simple attempt to be friendly, she instinctively took a step back. His smile faded and he took a long look around the small trailer. “You sure you’re OK?”